A Brush With Accomplishment

Today when I walked into Travel Writing, my teacher wasn’t there. Instead, his wife stood at the podium, gripping the sides and swaying back and forth, fighting the rocking of the ship. She told us her name was Pamela Holly, and then proceeded to talk about the accident our usual teacher had had last night. He slipped, or tripped, or fell over, or passed out, create your own story here. The main idea was that he hit his head pretty hard and was, during class time, down in the medical clinic. She said he was fine, but they wanted to watch him for a while. “He wasn’t going to let you get away without having class!” So there she stood.

I’ve been wanting to write about each of my teachers, and after someone asked Ms. Pamela Holly to tell us a little about herself, she shared about both her life and her husband’s. I figured it was good to write while the information was still fresh in my mind.
P.F. Kluge’s real first name is Fred. He goes by P.F. though, like any serious/indy travel writer might. He bares to me a strong resemblance with Anthony Bourdain, who has a show, No Reservations, on the Travel Channel. He speaks how he writes, which always leaves me pondering his words and analyzing their meanings. Sometimes I’m not sure what he says at all, but the Life Long Learners in the back of the class laugh, so I laugh too. He’s written for everything from The Wallstreet Journal to TV Guide to National Geographic to Rolling Stone to Playboy. He’s authored eight novels, and has another coming out soon (I’ve never heard of any of them). He wrote an article that was discovered by a screenwriter and eventually turned into a movie I have heard of, however, entitled Dog Day Afternoon. He speaks of his residency with the Peace Corps and his time in Micronesia often, but it wasn’t until today when his wife said something that we really realized his involvement. He is the “father” of a country. He formed Micronesia. He wrote the preamble in 20 minutes on his typewriter. I feel like I still don’t know who this guy actually is, but he seems like a crazy man. My favorite thing he’s said in class is “What? Office hours? I don’t have office hours. If you need to meet with me for some reason, I’d be more than happy to chat on the smoker’s deck, where you can find me after every meal.”

Pamela Holly introduced herself as being “not nearly as smart as P.F.” She, too, was a journal writer. She grew up in Kansas, where her father was instrumental in the Brown vs. Brown case, and she was in the middle. One year, she said, she was in an all-black school. The next she was shoved into an all-white school. She works now in Asia, as a correspondent for Bill Gates. A self-labeled Fundraiser, she “has been teaching Bill how to give his money away, because he has no idea.” In other words, she helps him decide what organizations and foundations he can contribute to. Spend his money wisely, I guess you could say. It doesn’t seem to me like her intelligence level is anywhere beneath her husband’s.

By looking, they don’t seem like a couple. P.F. walks like he’s wading through water, his face red from years of sun and hair white from years of life.  Pamela is mocha-skinned, white, short hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Although you might not put them together at first sight, it seems hard to separate them after meeting their personalities.
Accomplishments interest me.